The Adventures Of Commander Sexitimz
by Writing Was Yes
Summary: General Sci-Fi parody. Original Fiction.  Commander Sexitimz is a mercenary who takes up the most dangerous missions the Universe has to offer, while simulaneously being chased by the Space Corps: the intergalactic superpower he once fought to protect.
1. I swear the Nav System Drink Drives

**Hey guys, thanks for reading my story!**

**Commander Sexitimz is based off a persona we created at a party, (khanimegirl69!) and we decided that I was this amazing Commander that fights both good and evil, all over the Universe. Everyone at the party's a primary character. I'm just so nice that way ^_^**

**This isn't really a serious story, but I enjoy working on it, and it's all original fiction. Be amazed, internet!**

**The introduction's in 1st person, but the rest will be in 3rd.**

**I like boobs.**

**Let's do this thang!**

***WARNING***

**This story contains strong language, violence and sex references. At some points, it's basically erotica. You have been warned.**

Introduction

I awoke slowly. Clouds of dust swirled in the still air, particles dancing before my eyes. I tried to focus past the dust, but everything was too blurry. I closed my eyes. Sight wasn't going to be much help until I could actually distinguish details. Lenses must have been thrown out of sync. I'd have to calibrate them later.

I was made aware of my situation via other senses. I seemed to be somewhere hot. The air was dry and dusty - that suggested a desert. Well at least I'm on the right planet.

I didn't plan on crashing _into _the desert though.

My hand ran over an awkward bulge in my back pocket. I pulled out my PDA.

"Good afternoon Commander" It chirped happily. "Descent on Shri complete. You decelerated at" -a pause- "300% the recommended deceleration speed. Would you like a damage report?"

"Calibrate my lenses first, then I can take a look."

"One moment..."

A sharp click resonated throughout my skull, indicating the devices had paired. A jab of pain behind my eyelids. I opened my eyes. Much better.

I was lying in some sort of metal pod. Well, it's what I assumed was the same metal pod I descended in. It was mangled, broken and bent; evidently it had been been a hard landing.

I sat up, nursing my left shoulder. I must have taken the impact there, then whiplashed my head into the pod wall. Lucky nothing was broken.

"Commander, would you care to see the damage report?" the tinny, chirpy voice asked

"Won't be necessary. This pod's trashed."

I tried my radio earpiece. "Lieutenant, did you make it down?" Nothing but static.

I flicked through channels. "Shred, Derpton? Anyone there? Respond." Still nothing.

The ground shook. I squinted through the dirty glass of the pod, amazingly not broken. Sand swept in through a hole in the side, and a gust of air buffeted the metal box. I heard strange sweeping noise, followed by a dark shape that tore its way along the skyline. In the blink of an eye it was gone.

That was definitely a ship.

The PDA chirped again. "1 new message, Commander."

A new voice played across my ears, one I knew well. "Commander, Dweeb checking in. Some kind of electromagnetic aura surrounding this planet is blocking our radios. I had to get Con to do a sweep and aim a laser at you. By hand."

I was impressed. Beaming an infa-red by hand? Sometimes I forgot Dweeb's true technical mastery.

The recording continued. "It also screwed up the navigation core of our pods. Expect the team to be scattered, I haven't located any others yet. This looks like it may be your toughest one yet. Give them a round or two for me."

A scattered team? No radios? On a strange and unfamiliar planet with no chance of back-up? Sounded like a walk in the park.

"Oh, and Commander? Unidentified indigenous approaching. Armed. Good luck. Dweeb out."

I stuffed the PDA back into my pocket and jumped up. I reached for my gun placement, only to grasp sand. That entire side had been shorn off.

Crap.

I could hear them approaching, chattering away in Resk. Torvians. This was going to be fun.

They gathered around the pod, talking of treasure and gold. The whole thing creaked as they tore off the glass panel. I found myself staring at 3 startled Lizard-bipeds. One had an ancient gunpowder-based rifle. They leered at me menacingly.

One cocked his head quizzically to the side. "Humanz. Identify yourssself"

I smiled. "My name is Commander Sexitimz. Who the fuck are you?"

The last thing I saw was the butt of the rifle becoming close friends with my face.

**Chapter 1**

Commander Sexitimz groaned as he painfully made his way back to consciousness for a second time that day. He was aware of being dragged through a kind of structure. Voices and music competed with vendors and salesmen for attention; it seemed like a kind of central hub, similar to the Voyager. But he was a long way from civilised space.

Reptilian faces leered at the Commander from the blurry haze that was his vision. Goddamn lenses. Dweeb would fix them permanently when he made it back to the ship.

If he made it back. Phrases jumped out at him from the darkness: No backup... Hostile environment...

He snorted. He was Commander fucking Sexitimz - he'd been in worse scrapes than this and made it out in one piece. Occasionally two. Once three.

The Commander started to worry again.

He winced as the guards dragged him over the lip of a rough metal doorframe. The floor changed texture from wood to rusted metal grating. They had transitioned from the hub-like area to a corridor; large metal doors, more like hatches than anything, passed by slowly. Commander Sexitimz squinted, trying to make out the details. It was a waste of time. All he could see was door after door, passing uniformly by in several interesting shades of grey.

Eventually, the guards stopped at one such door. It's hinges squealed as one Torvian wrestled it open. Even half-blind, the Commander could see the metal was at least 10 inches thick, and led into what was unmistakably a cell. He wouldn't be able to escape this one any time soon.

But what if he never entered the cell? Trying to debate with a Torvian? This was going to be interesting...

"Hey..." Commander Sexitimz started, facing the unoccupied guard. His voice cracked from lack of use in the last few hours. He winced internally - not the greatest start ever.

"You seem like a couple of reasonable, intelligent and handsome Torvians. Why don't we have a nice drink and discuss this like civilised beings?"

The guard cocked its large, scaly head quizzically, appearing to consider what the Commander had said. That in itself was a victory - As well as being fuck-ugly, Torvians were widely regarded as the dumbest animals to ever develop a frontal lobe. In fact, some were convinced they didn't even develop that.

Emboldened by his success, the Commander kept going. "I mean, I know some important people. Letting me go unharmed might be worth your while. I could get you... Well, I don't know..." he trailed off, desperately searching something, anything, to bribe them with.

"...Opera tickets? I shagged Marci DeFrallia once. She's famous now... great pair of ti-"

The Torvian kicked Sexitimz in the stomach, propelling him back into his cell. He landed in an undignified heap, the air knocked out of him. The guards laughed and slammed the cell door shut.

"Savages!" Commander Sexitimz yelled as he stood. "Appreciate the nuances of music and maybe you'll advance as a species!"

The Commander groaned and cradled his ribs. Torvians could kick with explosive force - an evolved reaction to an environment with giant predators the size of office blocks. He had definitely broken some ribs. He didn't know which ones... But it felt like all of them. He winced, turned around and leant against the wall.

Then he realised he wasn't alone.

Someone was sitting in the corner, legs tucked into their chest. The Commander squinted through the darkness and blur of broken lenses, but he couldn't make out anything else. The figure stood up, a smooth, fluid motion that left Sexitimz breathless. He could just make out some details: It was a woman, her straight dark hair, reflecting the room's single light; Fair skin, like light caramel, flowing over her soft features; One of the curviest bodies the Commander had ever seen - even better than Marci DeFrallia.

"Commander?" she whispered. The voice seemed familiar...

Before Sexitimz had a chance to think, the girl rushed towards him. She moved with speed, determination, every single action deliberate. The Commander hastily put up a defensive posture, but she swatted it aside with a flick of her wrist. He braced, closed his eyes and prepared for the...

Hug?

Sure enough, the girl had hugged him. Sexitimz sighed and put his arms around her. As she buried her head into his shoulder, the Commander experienced massive Deja-Vu. Everything about this was familiar: the sweet scent of her perfume, one which complimented her skin perfectly... The way her arms fitted around his broad back...

He wasn't complaining - the girl's breasts pushed on his chest, suprisingly firm considering their size. In fact, the only person he knew with breasts that firm was...

"Jugs?" The Commander asked, breaking away from the girl.

SLAP!

"Don't - Call - Me - Jugs!" she bellowed, punctuating each word with a slap. The last smack was a little off, and hit him on the temple. Sexitimz's head was propelled away from the woman and into the cell wall.

As the floor rushed up to great him, Sexitimz reflected on the phrase "Friendly Fire".

**:O Oh teh noes!**

**Be honest internet, was it good? Constructive critism only please! If you spot a mistake/incorrect Nerd Reference message me and I'll get it sorted.**

**Thanks to khanimegirl69 for encouragement and the exsistance of her awesome boobs, without which this story could never have been writen XD**

**Thanks very much for reading. More to come! :)**


	2. Monologues  And Casual Torture

**Who is Jugs? Will The Commander ever finish a section without being knocked unconscious? Find out now!**

Chapter 2

Knocked unconscious 3 times in one day? This must be some sort of fucking record...

The Commander jolted as he opened his eyes. A Torvian - one even more ugly than the fuck-ugly norm - was standing right in front of him, it's disfigured face inches from his own. As The Commander tried to dive backwards, he discovered he was tied to a chair. It tipped back perilously, but toppled forward again to rest on four legs. The Torvian chucked.

"Well, aren't we the lively one?" It asked, sniggering. "Have a nice nap? The girl sure did a number on you..."

As a response, Sexitimz headbutted it.

The Torvian reeled away, clutching its nose in agony. The Commander took the opportunity to assess his situation:

He was in a small room, tied to a basic wooden chair. Its rough edges jarred against his spine when he moved, creating a spasm in his back muscles. An ancient computer bank that could have predated electricity dominated one wall. One panel had been removed for repairs that had only been half done; the machine's innards spilled out onto the floor, dilapidated wires, cables and components bursting from its centre.

The woman from the cell was next to him, tied to a similar chair. Out of all the crew members that could be in this situation with him, he was glad to have Lieutenant Commander Mizusashi - or "Jugs", as the crew had dubbed her. Her expertise in close-range hand-to-hand combat would be invaluable here.

Something was wrong though. Sweat dripped down Jugs' face, her eyes wide with fear. Her hands clutched the arms of the chair, her fingernails digging brutally into the wood. Her gaze was fixed on something to her left, but her ample chest blocked The Commander's view.

What could possibly make her react like that?

Sexitimz turned his attention on himself for a moment to check his condition. His broken ribs hurt like a bitch, as did his left temple, where he'd struck the wall. Something was wrong with his vision on that side too, but it took him a second to figure out what it was.

His vision was clear: The lens on that side had been re-calibrated.

Well, fancy that.

The Torvian, meanwhile, had recovered from Sexitimz's blow. It grimaced, yellow blood running down its face. Rolling up its sleeves, the creature advanced on The Commander, raising its fist. Sexitimz absorbed several hard blows to his already-damaged ribs, the breath knocked out of him.

"Any more funny business and I'll have to get started sooner than I anticipated..."

The Commander considered what the Torvian had said as it turned away from him, dabbing at its face with a handkerchief as its long, white lab coat swished behind it. Get started on what? Sexitimz had a feeling it wouldn't be a Thai Cooking class...

This was going to take a while. Whoever he was, he looked like he fell into the "monologuing" category.

"So - you are the infamous 'Commander Sexitimz'. I must say, I'm disappointed. Didn't you used to control a whole Space Corps battle fleet? Now you're reduced to this: tied to a chair somewhere in the middle of the Shek'terian desert with nothing but an unusually strong forehead to protect you." The Torvian shook his wide head patronisingly. "I must say I'm a little offended that you'd make this little effort. Even exiled from the Corps, I've heard you have a highly skilled crew - Expert pilots, martial arts and weapons masters, nothing but the best for 'Commander Sexitimz'."

_I hate it when I'm proved right._

"Now, 'Commander'" - you could hear the quotation marks in his voice - "What brings you to Skarr? What is your mission?"

It looked at him in anticipation. He coughed, voice cracking from lack of use once more. "I misplaced the keys to my Neutron Laser, so I thought my friendly neighbours from the Gorsani Nebula could help me find them..."

That earned him a punch in the face.

"Jeez, sorry. Ok, I'll tell you the truth: I have no fucking clue why I'm here."

Another punch.

"That's the truth! I literally don't know my mission."

The Torvian frowned. "Explain."

"My memory of the objective has been erased. In an infiltration mission, I don't act towards a goal because I don't have one. In the event that I'm captured, interrogation won't work - there's no memories to extract."

"How do you accomplish a mission if you don't have an objective?"

"That's the easy part: if I'm here for pure intelligence gathering, I don't need to act towards an objective. Human nature is that I'll pick up a useful trail sooner or later." The Commander grinned wryly. "But, in case we're in a hurry, a 2 man back-up team is also in place to jog my memory if things turn stale."

The Torvian started. "So at any moment they could-"

"-as much as I'd love that, it's unlikely. They won't know I was caught: our pods were scattered on approach."

It seemed appeased, but only temporarily. Striding across the room, it grabbed a radio.

"Patrol, be on the lookout. Sexitimz has backup."

There was something odd about the way the Torvian addressed the patrol - it spoke slowly, like talking to a five-year-old.

_Something isn't right here, with this whole situation. Something right under my nose..._

The Torvian turned back to me. It had a wide grin plastered across it's hideous face. Sexitimz didn't like the look of it...

"Well..." it begun. "As fool-proof as your plan may seem, I seem to recall that wiped memories never truly stay wiped. Imprints and echoes remain, and it only takes the right situation for them to... Slip out again."

_Fuck_.

It stepped around Mizusashi, who by now was sitting in a puddle of her own sweat, to retrieve something obstructed from Sexitimz's view by the girl's "assets". Since he couldn't see what was happening, he decided to take the opportunity to ogle Jugs.

Jugs wore an Ozernia mark 7 infiltration suit. It was the finest quality armour a field operative could ask for: light but tremendously strong, capable of blocking heavy attacks; flexible enough to allow the wearer to perform yoga in it; camo patterns so effective that you could stand 3 ft from the enemy and not have them know you were there.

It was also skin-tight and had the appearance of leather.

The material hugged the girl's, long, shapely legs, caressing her calves and entrapping her thighs. It continued, climbing her wide hips and full, round ass to settle on her smooth, softly curved back. The material travelled up her stomach, gentle suggestion of muscle rippling through it. Finally, the suit reached Jugs' tits.

The swell of Jugs' breasts were captured perfectly by the armour, the heavy globes rising and falling as the girl drew breath. The material was zipped down, exposing Jugs' formidable cleavage and a fair portion of naked flesh, beaded with cold sweat.

The suit's suggestive appearance was just another weapon in her arsenal: all but the most determined enemies gave her pause for thought. Occasionally they had thrown down their weapons and worshipped her as a Goddess; at the very least, they were distracted enough to create an opening for attack.

The Torvian returned from behind Jugs, grudgingly attracting Sexitimz's attention again. He was holding a tray filled with sharp, wicked implements. Those sort of instruments had only one function: inflicting pain.

_Double fuck._

Sexitimz was no stranger to pain - just that day he had been knocked about like a sadist's voodoo doll - but for Mizusashi, it was an entirely different matter. Pain, any type of pain at all, was completely debilitating for her. Her system shut down, and she went into a kind of shock. Sexitimz still didn't know why, but there were rumours she was the only one to return from Kiba alive. That had to be something to do with it.

Whatever the reason, The Commander couldn't let a single blade go near her: He would need her skillset to escape Skarr.

The Torvian stroked his chin with a scaly finger, pacing in front of them. "Now where should I start...? The girl? Hmm, that seems like fun..."

The Commander twitched. "She was never briefed. I read the objectives, I read the plans, and I only tell the back-up team. Only I undergo the memory erasure. She's part of the infiltration team: she's got nothing."

The Torvian stopped mid-stride. It turned to Sexitimz, a devious grin spreading across its face. It turned The Commander's blood to ice.

"An 'interesting' response, Commander... You wouldn't happen to have feelings for this stunning specimen, would you?"

Sexitimz smirked. "She's useful, I'll give you that; but she's nothing to me."

Jugs' face remained neutral, but her eyes blazed like torches. There'd be Hell to pay for that later: this 'stunning specimen' could hold a grudge that lasted empires...

_Wait, did he just describe Jugs as a "stunning specimen"? Torvian's concept of female beauty is based on facial horns... For this one to acknowledge Mizusashi's beauty would mean he's either deeply perverted, or he's very well researched in human sociology. Not only that, but his mannerisms, expressions, and language are all very human..._

_Ha: gotcha._

The Torvian resumed talking. "You play a good bluff Sexitimz, I'll give you that; but this girl means something to you. I'll start with her."

As it advanced towards Jugs, a barbed scalpel raised dramatically high, a low chuckle escaped it. "A shame to scar such an attractive individual, but... These things happen..."

Mizusashi looked at Sexitimz, her eyes pleading, desperate for an escape. To her surprise, The Commander winked and smiled broadly.

"Defence plan 1, Jugs. You know what to do."

Jugs sighed and rolled her eyes. She arched her back, straining against the ropes, contorting her body.

The Torvian raised an eyebrow. "As entertaining as this is, I have to get to the main article. I hope you'll talk soon, Commander, and spare your associate a great deal of pain!"

With that, it raised the scalpel and slashed downwards.

**Suspense! Ain't I a bastard?**

**At least Sexitimz wasn't knocked out again :3**

**Constructive criticism only and junk :)**


	3. And Then Explosions

**Read and stuffs!**

Chapter 3

Time seemed to stand still as the blade quivered at a stand-still, midstroke, inches from Mizusashi's chest. Each face in the room told a different story: Mizusashi's eyes were screwed shut, waiting for the cut that hadn't been delivered; the Torvian's slack-jawed, dumbfounded look of confusion; Sexitimz's triumphant smile.

Slowly, Jugs opened her eyes to a very familiar scene: someone staring at her breasts.

_Defence plan 1 of Commander Sexitimz's armada: _If in doubt_, _get your tits out. Specifically_, _Lieutenant Commander Mizusashi's.

Jugs had twisted her breasts out of her armour, and thus they sat, exposed to the world: her huge boobs bounced softly as she breathed, pale, caramel skin glistening with sweat. Droplets rolled down her ample chest, dripping erotically off her erect nipples. They were just... Perfect.

The Torvian seemed absolutely flabbergasted: it tried to speak, but no words came out. Its eyes were glued to Jugs' enormous breasts, nothing else registering with it: Not even Jugs wiggling out of the ropes tying her feet together.

Of course, it noticed when said feet kicked it in the nuts.

The Torvian collapsed like a felled tree, its face twisted in pain. Sexitimz couldn't contain his chortle of amusement as Jugs ripped her way out of the chair, driven by pure rage: when Lieutenant Commander Jugs was pissed off, entire planets got caught in the cross-fire.

She advanced on the downed creature, tits still out and bouncing, and kicked it. Lifting it up by its collar, she slammed it against the wall.

"WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?" Jugs screamed, features contorted with rage. "EVEN ON DIFFERENT PLANETS, THEY'RE ALL FUCKING PERVERTS!"

Crippling blows landed to the creature's stomach and face, bones shattering under Mizusashi's inhuman strength.

_No point in just sitting here and watching... _Sexitimz thought._ As tempting as that may be..._

The Commander hopped his chair over to the wall and started smashing his right temple off it. It might have looked odd, and hurt like fuck, but if the brief-but-passionate meeting of his head and the cell wall had restored his vision on the left side, logic dictated it would also be true of the right. He hoped.

The door burst open and two Torvian guard charged in. They paused, guns at their sides, trying to absorb and understand the scene in front of them: Jugs, with her breasts still proudly on display, busy beating their superior while Sexitimz pounded his head off the wall.

One Torvian raised its weapon slightly, maybe figuring out that this was perhaps a bad situation to be a guard. Sexitimz could swear that the second Torvian was retarded, because it just stood there like it had nothing better to do than gawk at a man slowly committing neural suicide via wall-head lovemaking.

Either way, they were of no threat: Jugs - in an impressive display of flexibility that did wonders for Sexitimz's imagination - kicked the first one in face and headbutted the second. One was embedded in the corridor wall; the other went right through said wall.

Jugs looked back at Sexitimz, busy beating his head against the wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Doctor recommended I should do this once a week, stop those friendly voices from convincing me to burn things..." He gave his head one more smack, and the readouts and diagnostics of his electronic eye implants flickered on-line. "There. Now help me out?"

Jugs rolled her eyes and untied Sexitimz. He struggled to his feet, his mind noting all bodily complaints and filed them to be used against him later.

"So what's up Commander?" Mizusashi asked. "Why did that old trick work on the Torvian? He's a reptile: they don't even have mammary glands! It shouldn't have reacted like that!"

"Not 'it', Lieutenant. He." Sexitimz glanced down at the beaten creature. "Look again."

Mizusashi did a double take: there on the floor was a man, where a second ago was a very ugly Torvian. Greasy black hair framed a narrow, hollow-looking face hidden behind over-sized glasses, broken from Jugs' fierce assault. He was bloody and bruised, his thin face purple and blue with the abuse he had taken. He was barely breathing; What little breath that left his partially caved-in chest gargled slightly. He wasn't in good shape.

"WHAT-THE-FUCK?" Mizusashi screamed in one syllable.

The Commander grinned. "This is our mark: Theodore Zachary. He's been hiding out with these Torvians, posing as a scientist to fund his biological warfare with The Corps."

Zachary stirred slightly. "How... Did you know...?"

"That you were human? Simple really." Sexitimz grinned; Mizusashi rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall, preparing for the victory speech to start. "Your speech patterns, colloquialisms, treatment of other Torvians... Nothing added up.

"You were too familiar with our language, addressed the other Torvians like children. Now that could be a side effect of so-called 'Torvian Intelligence', but the smartest recorded Torvian only hit 57 on the IQ scale.

"You also seemed well immersed in our culture too: not only did you acknowledge that the Lieutenant here is very attractive, you also couldn't keep your eyes off her tits, you naughty boy."

Sexitimz started pacing. "Now to me, this didn't make sense: Torvians' idea of beauty is how many ugly-ass horns the girl has on her face. For you to be a boob enthusiast doesn't add up, it'd be like a human with a tentacle fetish."

Jugs shifted uncomfortably, blushing. "Yeah... That would be... Totally sick...and stuff..."

Sexitimz raised an eyebrow and continued. "All this lead to one conclusion: you either used to be human and turned into a Torvian - not fucking likely - or you were using a solid hologram cloaking device to mask your real image. Defence plan 1 would work against either."

The Commander beamed. "I also got the mission details downloaded to the lens implants in my eye: I might know fuck all when I touch down, but soon I know everything. You said it yourself, I play a good bluff..."

"Uh, Commander..."

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"...he's been passed out for the last 5 minutes."

Sexitimz frowned, kicked Zachary and then straightened up again.

"Right you are Lieutenant. I suppose we better get him out of here." The Commander turned away, muttering "Why are they always unconscious for MY monologues? I have to fucking sit through theirs..."

He turned back to Jugs. "Oh, and by the way Mizu... Your tits are still out."

Mizusashi looked down, puzzled for a second.

"Oh yeah. Well I can't get them back in the armour myself, its too tight. You're going to have to..." she trailed off.

"Yeeeeeees?"

She sighed. "You're going to have to help me put them back in."

"Don't worry Mizu: I feel like this is what I was born to do..."

Half an hour later, and Commander Sexitimz was very sorry to see Lieutenant Commander Mizusashi fully clothed once more. Although he was walking with a limp for the time being, that problem should sort itself out soon enough...

"Right," said Sexitimz. "We better get him out of here. Cooper, we need a small entry point at co-ordinates-"

The wall beside Sexitimz exploded.

The Commander was blown off his feet into the opposite wall, where he landed in a very undignified heap. Mizusashi managed to put down a drop shield to secure her and the package.

Coughing, the Commander saw 3 figures emerge from the dust cloud that blanketed the room.

The one on the left walked with grace and majesty: he not so much strode into the room as glided. Sexitimz could make out the Omerta Mark 6 armour that encased him from head to toe, the skull-tight mask hiding what the Commander knew to be a shock of wavy, blond hair. The armour, pitch black with red lining, flowed over his perfectly sculpted body. The red lining ran up his side, paralleled, to meet in a band over the man's eyes. His right hand was curled into a fist around the barrel of a Bareknuckle Morph-Rifle: still a prototype, the only one in the galaxy.

Hard muscles, harder resolution, always ready for the fight: This was Gunnery Sergeant Shred.

On the right was a man garbed in a standard technician's overalls, pale blue-grey with a white stripe down the front. From his belt hung a variety of tools, cutters, and laser spanners, as well as a burlap kit-bag across his back. His hair was drawn back, tight against his head in a short ponytail. The lenses of his glasses flashed in the dusty light, obscuring his eyes, but the small smile at the corner of his mouth told Sexitimz everything he needed to know: he was still enjoying his work.

This was Sexitimz's communications expert: if you needed a line patched through a million kilometres of space debris and angry aliens, the only man to ask was Comms Officer Derpton.

Lastly the man in the centre swaggered calmly through the destruction he had wrought. He was the very definition of nonchalant: Wandering through a battlefield, an ancient, silver pistol held loosely in one hand, apparently without a care in the world. He wore a strange mix of civilian and military attire: tight black jeans, with a rusted silver chain looped at his left hip and a flak jacket over a thin, faded T-shirt. Jutting out of every pocket of the jacket was an explosive device of some kind: Moulds, triggers, sticks, he had them all. His casual grin made the studs in his lip glint in the light, the ancient aviator sunglasses winking with them.

The most casual, laid back demo-man had arrived: Private Angelus Cooper.

Private Cooper smirked as he approached Sexitimz "You look like hell boss, what you been up to these days?"

"Same old: recon, getting caught, getting free..." Sexitimz winked at Mizusashi. "Molesting Jugs..."

Derpton laughed. "Fuck being captured, that explains the state you're in..."

Sexitimz placed his hands on his hips, planted his feet firmly on the ground and looked into the horizon in the most manly way possible. "I'll have you know it was for the good of the mission: Mizusashi here needed help after Defence plan 1, and I valiantly offered assistance... Then copped a feel."

Mizusashi went to slap The Commander, but Shred grabbed her hand. "Heads up guys: enemy contacts massing in the next room." He raised his Morph-Rifle. "I'd recommend Position Theta."

"I think I tried that in the bedroom last night..."

"Shut it Cooper." Warned Sexitimz.

"CALL ME ANGELUS!"

"When Hell freezes over: you sound like either a mathematical theorem or a retarded fairy." He turned to Shred. "Theta it is: Someone give us weapons."

Once Derpton supplied Mizusashi and Sexitimz with pistols from his kit-bag, they readied themselves

"Everyone in position? Execute!"

The Commander raised his pistol as Cooper blew the other wall up.

"Charge!"

**And thus, the power of boobs saved the day :D**

**What do you think of the new characters? Much more will soon be added! :)**

**Constructive criticism only!**


	4. Kill 'Em All

**Now for some fighting!**

**I worked quite hard on the descriptions in this chapter, of both the characters and scenery. Kay? :D**

As the wall blew apart, The Commander felt a click resonate throughout his skull.

8 enemies, armed with gunpowder rifles and pistols. The wall would impede them and slow their reactions, making it an almost certain victory.

Time seemed to slow, his perceptions altered and stretched into eternities: his hands, callused and bloodied, firmly clasped around the rough metal hilt of the laser pistol; the beat of his heart, echoing within his body, deafening and strong; the targets, outlines in a bloody red, startled, eyes widening as the wall collapsed on them; the taste and smell of ionised air, laser discharge and gunpowder as the supercharged photons carved a path through the room; the kick of the pistol as The Commander unloaded his weapon at a screaming Torvian face. His muscles had reacted as soon as his mind had processed the scene that unfolded in front of him.

He had entered Zen Mode.

Sexitimz had killed many times before, and accepted the fact that he would have to kill again many times in the future. It was not a reality he particularly liked, but one that he knew was necessary. The hardest thing was knowing that, however much Sexitimz gained for the act, someone would lose it tenfold.

It wasn't nice. But it was the way the universe worked.

So as mortar and bricks flew past his head, rendered in a calm, controlled blue, Sexitimz didn't find it easy to pull the trigger. But, considering the Torvian was blindly firing bullets at him and his team, he didn't exactly find it hard either.

Shred calmly fired 3 round bursts at his targets, the very essence of efficiency: no wasted movement, no wasted ammo, striding through the rubble like a God of War. A perfect kill every time, guaranteed by his method of strafing laser-fire from heart to neck to head.

Derpton took a strong stance, holding his gun in a classic two-handed grip, feet planted firmly for support. He had decided that speed was everything: inaccuracy be damned, if you can get a shot or two off before the enemy, you'd pretty much won. Quick double shots finished off his enemies: one took lasers through the shoulder, while he managed to score a headshot on the next.

Mizusashi used her gun more like a melee weapon, alternating fast, brutal martial arts with interlaced gun-play. She moved like lightening, disarming the first Torvian by breaking its arm. Once she had slid its weapon from its hand, she grabbed the rifle by the barrel and using it to smack the Torvian upsides the head with it. Its jaw broke as the butt connected with it, sending splinters of bone and yellow blood everywhere. She gave it a brutal kick and sent it flying into another Torvian, whereupon they both hit the opposite wall hard enough to dent it.

Cooper stood side on, to minimise his target area. Gun outstretched in his left hand, he took pot-shots with his heavy pistol, providing Mizusashi with cover fire. Bullets from his ancient gun impacted on a Torvian running towards the big-boobed warrior, wounding it and allowing Jugs to send it flying across the room.

The strangest moment in the battlefield is the moment engagement ceases; An eerie silence descended upon the room, and all that Sexitimz could hear was his own breathing.

The blue filter faded from his vision, and time seemed to snap back to its right speed. After experiencing a moment of disorientation, Sexitimz lowered his gun, looked around the room and called out. "Clear. We all ok?"

A chorus of "Roger"s came back at him, green status lights winking across his HUD.

"Good to hear. Derpton, grab our VIP."

The Comms Officer hauled the unconscious scientist off the ground and slung him over one shoulder. The rest of the team formed up around Sexitimz: This room was the first of many.

"Face it: you're lost!"

"I am not lost! I was perfectly conscious when they dragged me through here."

"I'm sure you said 'barely' last time."

"Let's not fuss over the details..."

Mizusashi sighed.

The team stood in the dark, musty corridor of jail cells, door after door stretching into the distance. These passageways twisted their way through the Torvian Hideout in random, discordant patterns, like a worm with epilepsy. At a rave.

"Hmm..." the Commander bowed his head for a moment, eyes closed, and scratched his jaw. To his left, a trail of destruction told the story of their progress through the base: Destroyed walls and mangled, broken corpses marked their path.

Cooper broke the silence. "Well I think we should go this way," he said, gesturing ahead of them with his gun.

Shred crossed his arms. "Based on what?"

Cooper winked and smiled one of his winning smiles. "I got a good feeling is all!"

"Not impressed..."

"Hey, fuck off man-"

"Enough!" Sexitimz growled, eyes snapping back open. "Shred, do you have a better suggestion?"

"Yeah man, can you do any bette-"

"Shut it Cooper! Shred?"

Shred paused, fingers drumming against the barrel of his rifle. After a moment or two, he gestured with his thumb behind him - the opposite direction from Cooper's suggestion.

Immediately, Cooper kicked off. "Based on what?" he said, smugly.

Shred, in one fluid, graceful movement, raised his rifle and pivoted 180 degrees, firing two shots as he did so. Lasers carved their way across the empty corridor; then, out of nowhere, yellow blood splattered across the wall.

A stunned silence descended upon the team. Shred put his gun over his shoulder and asked "Will that do?"

He and Sexitimz walked over to the bloodstains, which covered the floor in strange lumps, seemingly lying atop nothing...

Shred gave one a good kick - with a vaguely comic pop noise, a Torvian with a partially exploded head suddenly sprung into being. The man responsible for said exploded head squatted to exam it.

Its bloodstained armour encased its whole body, and occasionally flickered to mimic the colour and texture of the floor beneath it. This time it wasn't fooling anyone: A hissing generator on its back leaked blue gas out of a caved-in cylinder, the dent in which matched the boot size of a certain Gunnery Sergeant Shred.

Sexitimz frowned momentarily. "Cloaked Torvian Spec Ops," he said, examining their armour. "This is the cheap n' nasty equivalent of your armour, Mizu - see the armour has to encase its whole head to work properly? And, of course, the stitching is terrible. Horrible craftsmanship."

Another awkward silence rang out for a few seconds.

"The Commander's frown deepened. "Still, cheap as it is, this is a major piece of tech. Especially for the Torvians. They must be planning something big. Be sure we notify our contact in the Corps before we go."

Mizusashi nodded.

"Ok..." said Derpton. "On account of me shitting myself, I vote we go with Shred's suggestion"

"Agreed," said Mizusashi

Sexitimz nodded. "Wherever they came from, it sounds like the party starts and ends there. Vote carried..." he shot a look at Cooper. "Unanimously."

The Commander then turned and walked down the corridor, pistol at the ready. Shred rose, primed his rifle, then he and Mizusashi continued after him. Derpton readjusted his grip on the target, then followed suit.

Cooper sighed a weary "fuck...", then ran to catch up with them.

"Shred, you're on point with me: if there are any more of these Spec Ops faggots, we're the best trained to deal with them. Cooper, Mizu, cover Derpton and the VIP."

A chorus of "Roger"s greeted his ears.

Sexitimz continued down the corridor, pistol half raised, scanning the corridor in front of them. Now that he knew there were Cloakers here, he could check for tell-tail signs of their presence: Footprints appearing out of thin air; vague shimmers that disappear in an eyeblink; noises that you can't account for-

Shred opened fire, yellow blood showering the walls. The Torvian blinked into existence with a hole through its gut: the laser had punched all the way through scales, tissue and organs, and continued out to wreck the cloaking device. Some of its blood seemed to hang in mid-air: The Commander shot it, and was rewarded with it crashing to the ground in a heap.

"Clear." Shred breathed. He looked at Sexitimz. "They seem to be travelling in two-man teams."

The Commander shook his head. "Don't make assumptions like that: they'll get you killed. Move out."

They continued forward, moving at a slow pace. Door after door passed them by, their contents unknown. The Commander toyed with the idea of checking them: maybe they could find some allies. Anyone detained here would have cause enough to fight.

His eyes swept the corridor. No, trying to cover non-combatants and fight these Cloakers would be next to impossible. They didn't have the time to...

There!

The Commander unloaded a clip of his pistol into the shimmer of air in front of him, then loaded a new clip as Jugs and Shred shot another, coated in blood like Sexitimz's previous victim.

Shred lowered his weapon and turned to Sexitimz. "See? Two-man teams, just like I sai-"

Shred was cut off as The Commander explosively kicked him in the chest; as Shred flew back into the wall an electric blue light sparked into life and sliced downwards, missing Shred's chest by inches. Instead, it buried itself in Sexitimz's leg, the one pinning Shred to the opposite wall.

The Commander gritted his teeth, and punched the air beside him, swinging a left hook round at torso level: his punch landed with 100% accuracy, and another Spec Ops Torvian appeared before them, clouds of gas spitting out of the mangled Cloaking Generator. In one hand, it held the electric Helterknife embedded in Sexitimz's left leg. It quickly released the knife and lunged at Sexitimz, an identical blade in its other hand. The Commander grabbed the Torvian's wrist and forced the knife towards the roof, but it span the blade in its fingers: electric blue pain cut across Sexitimz's hand, followed by a kick that sent him sprawling to the floor. As soon as The Commander fell, Jugs and Shred sprang into action.

Shred, no longer pinned by Sexitimz, leapt at the Torvian with reckless abandon. Left cross, right hook, and a double fist swing to the right sent him falling straight into the path of a very pissed Mizusashi. With one punch to the stomach, she sent it flying back down the corridor, where it crumpled in a heap.

Shred and Mizusashi turned back to The Commander: Derpton had thrown Zachary unceremoniously to the floor and was checking Sexitimz over. Mizusashi joined him, kneeling next to The Commander.

The knife had slashed over his hand, leaving a shallow cut. It hadn't done much damage. The real issue was his leg.

The Commander's armour was burnt away at the thigh, the edges glowing flame red, burning his skin. The energy imbued in the blade had allowed it to cut deeply into his flesh: blood surged up from the torn muscle and tissue, boiling as it touched the melted plates of Sexitimz's armour. Evidently the knife had dragged as it had been pulled out, carving a massive trench in his leg. The Commander's face was screwed up in pain, his teeth gritted, the muscles in his neck raised and tensed.

In other words, it wasn't pretty.

"Shit!" Derpton exclaimed. "This isn't good. We can't fix this with field kit." He turned to face the rest of the team. "We need The Medic. Mizu, make the call."

Mizusashi nodded, and put her hand to her ear. "Astrid, The Commander's down: we need you to send The Medic. Get her here ASAP."

"Roger, Lieutenant, sending her in." Came the reply.

"Hurry Astrid, this is a bad one." She turned to the rest of the team. "Ok guys, defend this area: we need to wait here until The Medic gets to us. Hunker down, set up some cover and prepare to repel." She looked down at Sexitimz. "We're gonna get you help, don't worry."

The Commander murmured something.

Mizusashi leant in closer "What was that?"

"I said 'Fuck that'." Sexitimz sat up, wincing. "Here, give me that..." he mumbled, snatching the med. kit off Derpton. He grabbed a syringe out of the bag, seemingly at random, and plunged it into his exposed thigh. Sexitimz sighed. "Right. Let's get moving."

Mizusashi snorted. "You have a fucking 10 inch chasm in your leg. You're not going anywhere..."

Sexitimz, using the wall for support, stood up and gingerly tested his weight on the injured leg.

He grimaced. "Hmm, bearable. Could be worse."

"You've stopped bleeding." Derpton noted.

"Fancy that."

"Hang on," said Mizusashi. "Did you give yourself the Tourniquet Injection?"

"Yep..."

"Holy shit, do you want to lose a leg?"

"What, you've never wanted to try a new one out?"

Mizusashi sighed. "Commander, let us defend you until The Medic gets here. Let us take care of you for once."

"Well, if we're all staying here, who's gonna chase the target?"

"Commander, we caught the target!"

"Did we? Well where is the fucker?"

The team looked around. Zachary was gone.

**:O**

**Will The Commander be ok?**

**Where the Hell's Zachary gone?**

**What is Jugs' cup size?**

**Find out soon! :D**


End file.
